Those Who Wander
by Neige
Summary: A series of vignettes, featuring Aragorn and Halbarad prominently, starting soon after Aragorn begins his travels with the Rangers of Eriador. Part three, Justice: an orc skirmish and the sons of Elrond.
1. Worth

-_Note- _This story takes place between TA 2051 and 2052. More short stories will be added to this later, but for now, there is only this one. :D

­­_-Disclaimer-_ If you recognize it, I don't own it. I do, however, take the blame for the two lines of song. /cringe/

--

Worth

"_Great One, we give to you our own…"_

Deep voices rose in a mournful plainsong, callused hands piled stones over the freshly turned earth. The few who were not building the cairn- the company numbered less than ten now- stood back, singing the familiar tune and watching.

They had pursued a company of orcs across the land for a fortnight before they made their attack in the very place on which they stood now. The carcasses of the enemy had been stacked and burned after the skirmish, and now all that was left was to bury their two comrades. They had died, minds fogged by poppy, half a day later, each with wounds too grave to heal.

"…_protect_ _and guide them, as they did us."_

The last stone was laid, the group dispersed quietly to where they had settled for the night, a quarter mile from the field they had fought in. Halbarad made his way to Aragorn, who remained.

"I didn't know you knew them well," Halbarad said. "You haven't been traveling with us for more than a year."

"I didn't," Aragorn replied quietly. "You?"

Halbarad shrugged. "You learn to live with it. I've spent my whole life amongst the Dúnedain; often does a father not return to our camps."

Aragorn said nothing. Halbarad was older than he; twenty four years to his twenty one, and he seemed to understand his chosen way of life in a manner that Aragorn did not.

"Each of us must learn to accept our mortality…if we do not die today, we give thanks; but tomorrow is always a great unknown."

"And do you, Halbarad?" Aragorn asked, facing him.

"Do I?" he repeated, eyebrows raised. "No, but with every day, I am learning to."

A gust of cold, damp air blew their hair across their faces. Halbarad stuffed his hands into the pockets of his cloak. He watched the sky closely. Heavy, gray, and dismal, it cast the land into a sickly shade of green. Aragorn's gaze shifted back to the new graves.

"Halbarad…"

"Hmm."

"What do we do now?"

Halbarad turned back to him. "What we've been doing for a thousand years. We go on."

A drop or rain fell on Aragorn's nose, but he did not bother to swipe it away. Halbarad brushed one from his eyelashes.

"Our cause is the right one, I have never doubted it," he said.

"But is it worth it?" Aragorn asked.

Halbarad grinned half-heartedly, in a way that made Aragorn sick with despair.

"I do not know yet," he said. "I do not know."

The conversation was over. Drops began falling in earnest. Halbarad drew his hood over his head.

Aragorn began to walk away, to cover his blankets and set up his canvas sheet to protect his few belongings from the rain. Over the persistent sound of drops hitting grass, he could hear the soft dirge as it was hummed by his friend. He stopped short, ready to go back to him, then decided against it.

Silently, he went to rig up the sheet. First Halbarad's, then his own.

--

_Following the fall of Arthedain (TA 1974), the Dúnedain were scattered. Aranarth, who was Arvedui's son, became their first chieftain. Only later did they become the Ranger and clandestine protectors we see in "The Lord of the Rings"._

_This group, numbering ten (without casualties), could be considered rather large, as the company Halbarad led south during the War of the Ring numbered only thirty (excluding the sons of Elrond). I like to think that the Rangers were larger in number at the time of this story, and that the reason for Halbarad's small group was at least partially due to the attack on Sarn Ford in TA September 3018. _

_When camping (with tents, anyway), it is always nice to have a spare rain fly to string between trees and use as additional shelter/storing place. I have adapted that to fit here- carrying a full tent could be an unwanted burden for Dúnedain on the run. The stones were placed over the grave not for decorative purposes, but rather in the hopes that they might keep away hungry scavengers._


	2. Contradiction

_-Note-_ Wow…I apologize for the huge delay. This story takes a back seat to "A Friday", and soon to NaNoWriMo. I hope to add chapter 3 before November 1st, but I'm not certain it will happen; this is a difficult story for me to write. I'm trying to balance the angst factor, and so far, it hasn't been easy. :/

I'd also like to remind you that Tolkien writes, "…Aragorn took leave lovingly of Elrond…and he went out into the wild." (p 385, Appendix A, Return of the King, Ballantine edition) I extend that here to include his brothers.

­_-Disclaimer-_ Please see chapter 1.

Contradiction

"Brother! How fare you with these wild men?" Elrohir called, dismounting from his gray mare, giving Aragorn a warrior's clasp of arms. Before the Man could muster a response, he had already turned away, handing his reins to Elladan.

It had been a hard walk to the base of Amon Sûl, where they had arranged to meet the sons of Elrond. Surely, they were looked filthy, and, Aragorn supposed, smelled worse. The twins took no notice and continued to greet the company of Rangers as old friends.

"Marach! How've you been, friend?" Elrohir asked, a note of familiarity in his voice as he addressed a grisled veteran. To Aragorn's surprise, Marach grinned in response.

"Better than last we met, certainly!"

"And young Halbarad!" exclaimed Elrohir. Elladan joined him.

"It's been a few seasons- you've grown!" he observed, clasping the young Dúnadan on the shoulder. Halbarad smiled.

"How is your father?" asked Elladan.

"Fine- at the Halflings' border, last I heard."

"A good man," said Elrohir.

"News from Imladris?" Marach inquired, extending a flask in the twins' direction. Aragorn saw a glimmer of anxiety in his eyes, and hoped that his foster brothers bore no ill reports. He had not been with them long, but he knew the Dúnadain could scarcely handle more duties.

Elladan sighed, relinquished his reins to Halbarad. He took his saddlebags from his horse and set them on the ground. "Naught more than what you've heard already. More orcs in the Hithaeglir, though the battle° should have run them down."

"They breed like rabbits."

"Aye. We'll speak more, later. I assume you're leader here."

"Aye, but not for long," Marach replied, chuckling. "Your lad is doing finely."

"I can see that- he's as dirty as all of you now, a proper Dúnadan."

A low rumble of laughter came from the other men, and Marach grinned, showing his remaining teeth.

"Let's have a fire then, there are no orcs about tonight. We took care of a bunch south of Imladris, near the mountains. Lost two good men."

"Who?" asked Elrohir.

"Thúlon and Aradol."

Elrohir shook his head. "A shame."

_(l)_

Someone lit a fire. Aragorn sat on the ground, watching the flickering shapes of his foster brothers as they carried on merrily with the Rangers, men whom he had never seen smile- until now. It was strange, he thought, how he was now one of the men who took his brothers away from home for so long.

Halbarad sat beside him with a _humph. _

"Hello."

"Hello."

"Why are you not with Elladan and Elrohir?" asked Aragorn. "You know them."

Halbarad said nothing. Aragorn turned to him.

"Do you not…like them?"

"You cannot understand," he said softly. "They have never been more than loving brothers to you."

"Then I shall have to learn," replied Aragorn.

"They have two faces, your brothers. You have only seen one of them."

"What-"

"We follow them on these hunts," said Halbarad. "We respect them and would go with them to the ends of the land, but they lead us with not a care as to the lives lost or the families waiting behind. A Ranger camp is defended by women. Wives whose husbands are dead or gone."

"I have been to a camp," Aragorn reminded him. It had been a muddy place; brown tents, brown clothes, barefoot children, armed women. They had all held themselves proudly, with the dignity of their forefathers. So much pride, he thought, in the face of so much death.

"They use us…but we do not object. It is what we do, it is our duty. We defend others at our own cost, but the purpose of the sons of Elrond is different. They do not hunt for the same reasons we do."

"I know the story, you needn't tell me," Aragorn said irritably. "I know it is revenge they seek."

"And revenge they will never find. They are reckless in their killing, and many lives have been lost thusly." Halbarad hesitated. "Your father was one of them, you know."

Across the fire, Marach laughed loudly. The twins began a song. The silvery tune caught on the warm updraft from the flame and dissipated in the clear, dark sky above.

Halbarad sighed and rose. "They are noble and fierce, Aragorn, and kind in their own fashion- just not to orcs, or the families left behind. Someday, I will like them better."

Aragorn followed him. "I do not-" he began, but Halbarad stopped abruptly and turned to him.

"I know you do not understand. Go back, Aragorn. Those Elves are your family. Love them while you can."

_(l)_

Thanks for reading! Notice the rating went up to PG-13: this is for a later chapter. Some of you probably disagree with Halbarad's opinion of the twins, but he's entitled to it. :D

Review Responses:

_Snickers 1514:_ I'm trying to follow canon as closely as possible- I'm glad you like it!

_TrinityTheSheDevil:_ I was so disappointed to see he wasn't included in the movie! He certainly deserves more stories. :P I am very, _very_ sorry for the wait! I kept trying to squeeze some angst out of this chapter, but it wasn't working. I have a definite plan for the next chapter, and it will hopefully (!) be posted before November 1st.

_Grumpy:_ I'm a Dúnadan fanatic, and there is a sad lack of Ranger stories out there! I'm happy to hear from another Ranger fan. :D

_Noldo:_ Thanks! I wouldn't worry about our two Dúnadan stories- I think they're different enough. Rangers (especially Halbarad :) need all of the stories they can get! :P


	3. Justice

_-Note- _I know, I know. My updating is horrible. Thanks for sticking with me!

­_-Chapter-specific Warning-_ Orc killing here, for a reason- the orc hunt ends, led by Elladan and Elrohir. If angry, ruthless twins and dead orcs bother you, feel free to not read this chapter. Writing this wasn't pretty, but neither is war.

_-Disclaimer-_ Please see chapter 1.

Justice

It was dark. The crescent moon shone through the trees as they lay in wait on the forest floor, hands grasping the hilts of their swords. A few were in the trees, searching for targets.

Their prey arrived a little after midnight. They had hid for the ambush for nigh on two hours when the orcs came tramping through the ravine below them, snapping underbrush and calling out to each other with hoarse voices, breaking the silence.

Halbarad, watching them pass, held his breath so it would not disturb the ground cover his lay in. Beside him, Aragorn tilted his head. Their eyes met.

Aragorn opened his mouth as if to speak, but froze as the signal came, a shrill whistle that sent the orcs still.

Arrows rained down upon the orcs from the trees. Halbarad glanced quickly upward. Elladan and Elrohir were above him, positioned at their foster-brother's back. He watched the orcs fall.

It was only moments before the stunned creatures reacted. A big one- the leader, maybe- gave a great shout, tore a dart from his calf, and rushed forward.

They were ringed in. No matter who the orc chose to go for, he would be exposing his back. The others scattered about the ravine, climbing up the gently sloping walls. One by one, they fell back. There was no more thana score of them, against ten Rangers and the two sons of Elrond.

But the lords Elladan and Elrohir would not lose a fight to the orcs. They were driven by terrible vengeance, by a fiery hate. They would not leave until each and every orc was dead.

"_Forward!"_

Which of their voices it was who gave the order, Halbarad could not tell. He threw himself forward, hearing Aragorn following behind him, to his right. The sturdy form of Marach emerged from the opposite side and began to slide down, dodging black shapes- bodies.

Halbarad did the same, dropping the ten or so feet to the rocky ground. There was a small stream running there. His boots soaked instantly. A black shape ran toward him, sword thrust out.

He parried the orc's blow and blocked it's next lunge. Aragorn was a small distance away, his sword shining in the moonlight.

Halbaradheard an arrow sing past his ear and jerked himself aside. It was too thin to be an orc arrow- it was of Ranger make. It embedded itself in the orc's thig, andthe orcrecoiled briefly, grunting. He scarcely knew what he was doing before he drove his sword through the creature's chest. It took effort.

The orc dropped away. He turned, and for a brief moment, he was alone. Elladan and Elrohir had come down from the trees. The bodies of orcs formed a wall around them.

He jerked forward, stumbling as something pierced the back of his upper arm. He stifled a cry of surprise and spun, slashing at the orc behind him.

His sword grounded on steel. He was using his left hand now; the orc had opened up his sword arm. They parried and lunged, the orc's tactics considerably less formal. Halbarad got past him once, enough to dig his sword into the creature's armpit. It retaliated furiously, snarling and dealing him a broad blow across his face. It was flat metal, but it took off a layer of skin from his nose and dug into the right side of his face. He gasped and slashed blindly with his sword.

He could not see! His right eye was entirely useless, the pain was so great thatHalbarad could not tell if the eye had been taken out. Vulnerable, he backed away, tripping over the body of the orc he had killed not long before. He sliced his palm open on it's sword, and out of one eye, saw the orc come after him.

He struggled to bring himself upright, cursing his ungainliness, and he waved his sword in front of him. The two weapons scraped against each other, but the orc's sword finally swept past his own, grazing his side. He took a stab at it's torso, and struck hard. It backed away, and so did he, tripping back once more.

The next blow, he knew, would be the last.

It approached quickly. He raised his head, too exhausted to do more.

Something happened, then. He heard a dull crunch, the orc gave a yell, and fell to its knees. A sword appeared through his stomach, then was withdrawn.

Aragorn stepped from behind it and rushed forward. Halbarad pulled himself up, leaning against the younger man.

They looked about them. The floor of the ravine was littered with the bodies of orcs. The twins were nowhere to be seen.

"Oy!" Marach cried. He had gotten back to the top of the ravine. "It's done for now. Come back up and we'll see to your face, Halbarad!"

They did not reply, but began the short ascent.

(l)

Dawn came, and with it, the stench of dead bodies. They had lost no Men, and no one had been seriously wounded. They had been fortunate.

Marach had made Halbarad drink a good portion of their dwindling supply of ale before he began stitching. The orc's sword had missed his eye by a hair's breadth, and the stitches would have to be tiny and careful. Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief when Halbarad lost consciousness halfway through the sewing together of his side.

He picked his way back down into the ravine. He met a Ranger on his way up. The Man had shaken his head. "Let them be, lad," he had said hoarsely. "They wouldn't want you to see."

Curiosity piqued, he emerged from the trees to find his brothers, alone. He immediately wished he had taken the Man's warning.

His brothers froze where they were. Elladan was stooping over an orc carcass, his dagger under it's eye. The other socket was empty.

Elohir was watching his brother, sitting on the back of a sprawled orc. His eyes were hollow.

They turned immediately to him. Their twin faces bore identical looks of haunted desolation.

"They…" began Elladan softly.

"Is this…your justice?" Aragorn asked, his voice low. "These did not take your mother. You killed them all, do you remember?"

Elrohir buried his face in his hands.

"You cannot understand…"

"I think I do," said Aragorn. "My father, his father…my friends and kin who have died fighting with me." He paused. "Justice? No, this is vengeance. It does not become you, sons of Elrond."

He turned away, leaving them to their grief.

(l)

Thanks for reading! Review Responses:

_Kathira:_ Thanks! I'm a Ranger fan myself, and there is a sad lack of stories about them!

_Grumpy: _I'm glad you understand. I'm sorry this took so long to update!

_Aguila:_ Halbarad has always been among my favorites. I'm very relieved that no one has taken offense at my twins- with all that happened to Celebrían, it would have had a strong impact on them.

_Apd69: _Thank you!

_Leap: _Oh, I agree. There are definite similarities between the sets of twins. I think we tend to miss the most important differences in their characters when we make Fred-George and Elladan-Elrohir the same- their families, their upbringing, their different worlds and races, and especially the capture of Celebrían.


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